/u/StraddleTheFence's posts
She was stunned how much the newly arrived realistic doll resembled her recently deceased infant daughter, Abbey.
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The daylight once permeating the rooms of the home was now suppressed by darkness except the tiny office where the alone homeowner typed by her desk lamp.
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The ten survivors of the plane crash crawled, limped and stumbled into a huddle where they cried and hugged one another thankful for their survival and sorrow for the human carnage.
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Against her best judgement, that night, she closed her bedroom door but was awaken shortly by a “thump, slide, thump, slide” moving across the floor in the next room.
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She was roused from her sleep by the rattling of the doorknob which became more intense and urgent as her four-year old belted out a bloodcurdling scream from the other side of the door.
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